


Neutrality

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: tumblr fics & ficlets. [84]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9224849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: Lydia is solely blaming Cora Hale and her notorious impatience on the fact that it's taking every ounce of her willpower to stop her teeth from chattering like a freaky wind-up toy.(written for the prompt "Cordia - You can share my jacket with me, since you’re shivering.”)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkAliceLilith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAliceLilith/gifts).



Lydia owns no less than twenty-five coats of varying styles, lengths and materials. They're located on the left side of her closet, arranged by which season they're most appropriate for. Hanging beside them are more cardigans and sweaters and blouses than she can count, all of which means that she never has a legitimate reason to be freezing cold. 

Therefore, she is solely blaming Cora Hale and her notorious impatience on the fact that it's taking every ounce of her willpower to stop her teeth from chattering like a freaky wind-up toy. 

Cora had burst into her room without so much of a hello, trailing muddy footprints on the carpet behind her, and demanded that Lydia come with her right away, because she needed a neutral party to referee a meeting with another pack in the preserve. Lydia was fairly certain that she didn't technically count as a neutral party, since she _was_ associated with a specific werewolf pack, but Cora had simply grabbed a blush-pink leather jacket hanging from a hook on the back on Lydia's door and tossed it at her. 

"You're not part of _our_ pack. Hurry up. Derek's waiting." 

Winter is still exactly a month away, but it feels like January in the Preserve. A biting wind howls and twists through the trees, nipping at Lydia's exposed skin, sliding through her thin coat like it's not even there. Even with her hands buried as deep as possible in the pockets of her jeans, her fingers are slowly going numb. 

The Hales, of course, look totally unruffled. 

Derek is standing off to one side, barely visible, leaning against a tree trunk. Cora is closer, perched on the hood of Derek's car with her hands loosely clasped between her knees, staring off into the darkness. 

The other pack is late, neither of the Hales seem interested in speculating when they may arrive, Lydia still has no idea what exactly the meeting is about, and she is _freezing._

The next time Cora demands her help, even if it's for something as simple as chemistry homework, Lydia is going to slam the door in her face. 

"What's wrong with you?" Cora's raspy voice unexpectedly cuts through the night, and Lydia turns to face her just as a shiver runs from the crown of her head to her toes. 

"You may not have noticed, but it's _cold_ ," Lydia hisses, yanking her hands from her pockets and jamming them in her armpits. "And this is not a winter coat by any stretch of the imagination, but you said we had to go _immediately_ , even though the other pack seems to have forgotten that they're meeting you." 

"They'll be here soon," Derek calls over. 

"They better be," Lydia snaps, "or I'm leaving. You can referee your own council meeting, or whatever the hell this is." Cora slides off the hood of the car, and Lydia expects to find herself with a pointing figure approximately an inch away from her face. 

Instead, she finds herself staring at Cora's fist, which is wrapped in the collar of her black motorcycle jacket. 

"What are you doing?" she asks. 

"Are you cold or not?" Without waiting for Lydia to answer, Cora tosses the jacket over Lydia's shoulder. "If you're shivering the whole meeting, it'll look bad on us. So put the damn jacket on." Her voice isn't as gruff as Lydia is used to, and when Lydia glances at her with a raised eyebrow, Cora's gaze darts off to the side, although Lydia knows there's nothing there beside a clump of trees.

Lydia's fairly certain that she's going to look ridiculous but, for the moment, fashion can take a back seat to warmth. 

It takes some maneuvering to get Cora's jacket zipped up over hers, and the finished product is far too tight, but she can't deny that it makes a difference against the ferocious cold. 

"Better?" Cora asks, having returned to the hood of the car. 

"For now," Lydia concedes. "But I'm still leaving if it gets any colder." 

"Whatever," Cora mutters. Before Lydia can respond further, Derek steps away from the tree. 

"They're coming." 

"Finally," Lydia says, and although she can't hear any approaching footsteps, she draws herself to her full height, slides her hands back into her pockets, and erases any kind of facial expression from her face. 

If she's going to be a mediator, she has to look the part.

&.

Thankfully, the meeting lasts less than twenty minutes. As it turns out, Lydia's role is to simply stand off to the side, follow the conversation, and ensure that both packs follow basic rules of respect and protocol. One of the other pack members, a middle aged woman with auburn hair reaching to her waist, gives Lydia a confused look after Cora introduces her, but before Lydia can ask, Derek starts the meeting, and the look disappears from the woman's face.

After pleasantries are exchanged, the discussion turns to the possibility of the other pack using ancestral Hale territory. Lydia doesn't quite understand some of the nuances of the conversation; the Hales have always played close to the chest with their family history, and there's names being thrown around that she doesn't recognize. However, the meeting seems to go well, and once it's broken up, the other pack disappears back into the trees like wraiths. Derek tosses Cora his car keys and says that he's going to run back. Cora just snatches the keys out of midair, shrugs, and slides into the driver's seat, although Lydia is fairly positive that Cora doesn't have so much as a learner's permit. 

Thankfully, she doesn't kill them on the way out of the Preserve, so Lydia relaxes back into the plush leather seat, still-cold hands stuck between her thighs. Cora is still and silent, shoulders stiff, only moving when she turns the steering wheel or presses down on the gas or brake. 

Since she shows no signs of wanting to start a conversation, Lydia decides to ask her a question. 

"Did you see the look that woman gave me? After you introduced me?" 

"Marissa?" Cora asks, tilting her head so it's facing ever so slightly in Lydia's direction. Lydia nods. "I saw." She's not forthcoming with any more information, so Lydia pushes, twisting in her seat so she's facing Cora. 

"And? What exactly was it supposed to mean?" Cora remains silent for a frustratingly long stretch of time, but Lydia refuses to let her off easy. She simply stares at where Cora is gnawing on her bottom lip with one of her sharp teeth.

"Werewolves usually only share clothes with members of their pack, or with their significant others. Marissa probably smelled my scent on you and thought that you weren't really a neutral party. That you were..." She trails off, but Lydia has an idea of what words are remaining unspoken. 

"If I'd known they were going to get the wrong impression, I wouldn't have taken the jacket," she says, tugging at the zipper of Cora's coat. 

"It's fine," Cora says hurriedly. "You can hold onto it for now. It's still cold outside." There's something about the way she says it, almost insistent, that makes Lydia pause, fingers still wrapped around the zipper. When she glances over, Cora is characteristically not looking at her, but she's gone even stiffer, taut as a tripwire, like she's thinking about hopping out the window the next time they stop. 

It's an interesting reaction, one that Lydia thinks she could investigate further, but she doesn't exactly feel like driving herself home, so she decides to take pity on Cora. 

"Okay," she says, dropping her hands back into her lap. "Do you want me to wash it before I give it back? Just in case someone else gets the wrong impression." 

It's difficult to tell in only the green glow thrown off by the dashboard, but Lydia thinks that Cora's cheeks flush red. 

"You don't have to do that," Cora mutters, turning onto Lydia's street. 

Lydia can't help but smile a little, just to herself. 

Cora pulls to a stop at the bottom of the driveway and leaves the car idling. Lydia stops with her hand on the door handle and glances back over her shoulder. 

"The next time you decide to drag me out into the woods late at night," she says, "I'm picking out my own clothes. Okay?" 

"Whatever," Cora says, eyes fixed out the windshield. 

There's absolutely no bite behind the word.

As she walks back up the driveway, Lydia makes a note to wear Cora's jacket to school the next day, just to see if her suspicions about Cora flushing are correct. 

(As it turns out, they are.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
